The New York Wife
by Ten Roses Gone
Summary: [Based extremely loosely off The Paris Wife, a novel written by Paula McLain.] I've never been much, just a young reporter defying the social norms of women in my time. A glorious whirlwind romance is something one comes across very few times in ones life. I was lucky enough to stumble upon it twice. [[1940's Whoufflé AU - Echo!Clara, Human!11, 10]]
1. Chapter 1

A glorious whirlwind romance is something one comes across very few times in ones life. I was lucky enough to stumble upon it twice.

The first time, it had been with a professor. A man who looked about as young as a high school senior, but with eyes as wise as a poet long gone. I suppose that's what he was to me in the beginning, even, long gone. His name was John Smith. Such an ambiguous name, and I'd told him so. Shortly before our first date.

It was the early fall of 1949 when I met him. I'd only just gotten a promotion at work, I was a journalist, and I was dying for a chance to write something serious. I had this enormous satchel, stuffed full of papers and pens and notebooks that I'd buy before the last was finished. I dragged that bag around from door to door, office to office for my new piece. It was about a school, a university in town that had been under some scrutiny. It was rumored that the Dean had paid off my boss to get a positive story in the paper, and that was my job. I went from the biology department to the humanities department, to the art department and back, looking for somebody who would answer just a few simple questions about their job. No luck with those old geezers, for all of the professors I'd encountered were certainly not young anymore, not by my standards. The physics department went a little differently, however, because that's where I met him.

I stumbled into his lecture hall, lugging my poor satchel behind me (this was an impressive feat all together, because I'm about as tall as, well, a dwarf. 5 feet, two inches. May as well be a Hobbit, but without the massive feet). He'd been staring down at his pupils papers, like a teacher may very well do, and didn't care for my presence.

"Whoever it is, my tutor duties aren't today, and I'm in a bit of a hurry."

At first I turned away, berating myself for not knocking first, but he seemed likable if only he'd just put the papers down for a hot minute. Like I've said, John looked very young. Appearing only twenty five, but in actuality was older than I was. Thirty seven. Not so old, but not so young either. His dark hair fell lazily over his face, delicate eyebrows serving no purpose over his watery eyes. I'd still been a good distance away at the time however, and I wouldn't come to notice that until later.

"Sorry, I was just wondering if I could-" He'd run a hair through the floppy locks, making me stammer and curse under my breath. "Nevermind, you're busy. I'll go, but you don't happen to know where a girl could find a professor who would actually want to talk to me for a while, do you? I'm writing an article for the city paper about the college. It's a promotional thing, and so far everyone's been too busy." In retrospect, it was actually kind of forward. My surprise later when he asked me out probably wasn't warranted, but what did I care? I was twenty three years old, and it was the forties. I could live a little.

Now, John knew he was a little thick, but that wasn't anything to be worried about. I found it charming. The way he looked up from his papers, those beautiful eyes of his peering at me from behind his hair. Then he managed to drop the pile of ungraded, and some surprisingly unstapled, essays from the desk. I laughed, picking up the one essay that had falled at my feet.

Antimatter and the Higgs Particle. Whatever it meant I was clueless too, so I simply handed it back to him with a smile gracing my face. As soon as I'd done so, the questions came. One after another it almost seemed like he was the journalist, rather than I. He was insterested, and of course, I was too. It was only natural that we'd spent more time flirting over coffee and imported Jammy Dodgers than going through the motions of a promotional interview.

The coffee date had started with a slight hitch. John had been a usual at the Bloor Door Café, the owner Wilfred was actually putting him up in the little apartment above the shop. It was all very quaint. The server, Beth as I came to call her, was very friendly with him. Everytime he'd come in for his usual coffee and Jammy Dodger combo they'd flirt harmlessly. She was alway a queen, or a princess, and he just her humble manservant - or was it prince? Both maybe. But it was nothing. Beth was engaged to the busboy, Sam, as John took pride in reminding me after I'd expressed my jealousy.

"Are you two together?" I'd asked after her royal highness had gone.

John knit his eyebrows together, obviously wanting to deny it but he was going to fish. See if I were actually as single as my hand read, test the waters. So he stayed silent for a bit, contemplating his answer before looking me in the eyes.

"Would it bother you if we were?"

It was innocent, yet I blushed. He wanted an honest answer, this I knew extremely well, but now I just wanted to crawl away and hide forever. I'd never been a very forward flirt, except with Nina. I was going through a fase.

"I-" my stammering must have amused him then, as I was embarrassed to have even asked the question. So when Beth came back with the drinks (a coffee with cream for me, and an earl grey for him) and the Dodgers, I stole one from his plate. Snatching it up and taking a bit. "Yes it would," I declared, turning my head up, mock haughtily.

John grinned, picking up a cookie of his own and leaning close to me. "Well, Miss Oswin," I could tell he was fishing again. "Beth is engaged to one of the busboys here at the café. I'm a professor, not a busboy, although I find your infatuation quite… endearing."

I scoffed, finishing off my cookie and chewing with another 'offended' air, taking a sip of my coffee when I'd finished.

"For your information, Professor Smith, I am not infatuated, just merely attracted… to you." John's eyes went wide, only slightly but I noticed nonetheless, before chuckling softly.

"Oh no- I just, you know you never think it's going to happen but then you walk in and-" He paused, "I'm making a complete idiot out of myself, aren't I?"

I grinned. "None more than usual." The porcelain handle of my coffee cup felt hot and clammy to my touch. It might have just been the coffee, but I like to think it was nerves, for I realized my mistake on seconds after I'd said it. "Oh! I mean, I'd expect. None more than usual I'd expect." A sheepish grin crossed my face. "I'm sorry, now I'm being the idiotic one, aren't I? I don't know.."

"Would you go out with me?"

It was blunt, to the point, and his cheeks were the color of my ruby lips, but it was so him. The nervous energy came off him as waves, melting into mine as he traced the rim of his mug with his long fingers. I elected to stare down at my cup as well, weighing the options I knew would come to a loud, resounding YES in the end.

"Well, I'd love to."

John does a bit of a double take before looking at me, taking in my excited eyes and bright smile, then a grin forms on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Late that evening after toiling over the article and resubmitting it thousands of times to my boss, I called him. My fingers were shaking as I dialed my rotary phone, holding the reciever up to my face. He wasn't anything to worry over. The smooth english accent was music to my ears, and I stuttered over my words again, calling myself 'Newspaper Girl' to which he replied I should flatter myself more. He was right. John was always right. So we made plans for the next night, to take a carriage ride around Central Park, because at the time I lived in New York City, and then to head to a restaurant named after his favorite wolfish fairytale. I couldn't have asked for a better man, honestly.

Dinner was lovely. The restaurant he took my to was a place he'd worked at when he first moved to New York. He had rome rather kind associates there, and some rather rude ones, but the manager gave us free wine and the best table around. Then the music started up and other patrons of the dinner service began to meander onto the dance floor, holding arms and swaying stiffly. John stood, his napkin laid gently on the table, his hand still in mine from the gentle flirting we'd done at the table.. He pulled me up gently, thumb grazing the top of my hand.

"Follow my lead. Moonlight Serenade is one of my favorites… and I want you in my mind with my favorite song."

He lead me towards the floor, placing on hand on the small of my back and pulling forward, the other still in my grasp.

"It's one of mine too." I whispered, pressed by his hand against him. I let my rest head on John's chest, slowly finding the tempo with little guidance from him.

"Slow, steady, together, let's make a melody."

All I could hear is the music, all I could smell was him, and he's all I could feel too. We moved slowly around the floor I suppose, but I still can't actually tell if we ever moved along. I was so immersed in him, and I swore I never wanted it to ever end. Of course, that's what happens when you fall in love so quickly. It ends.

But the beat was slow and the song long. He had me held close, my head beneath his chin. He nuzzled me a bit, later telling me that he'd liked the feel of my warmth on him. I've been told we looked like something out of a fairytale, a real couple of the '40s.

As the song gently came to an end, John and I stopped, still in an embrace. Now I can hear the clicking of heels once more, and John's breath, and movement other than ourselves, and then I looked up at him. I could feel eyes lingering on my back, but all I could see once again, was him, and he was all that mattered. One hand of his slips from around my waist to cup my cheek, his thumb caressing the stray curls around my face, and then he leans in, our noses touching as he whispers.

"This is the part where I kiss you… and the part where we fall in love right?"

His eyes were and still are striking, beautiful, full of hope, and what seemed like love. His hand on my cheek felt warm, like it's meant to be there, and I leant into it just slightly. I used to be able to see a future with this man. A beautiful future full of love, and intellect. I wanted to spend my nights with him, our limbs tangled and my hair fanning out on both the pillow and his bare chest. I wanted to live with him, and go through the good and the bad with him. I wanted to love him, and that was a mistake I had already made.

"I think I've already fallen in love with you."

"I don't think it's possible not to love you… I don't think it'll ever be possible to feel like this again." He whispered against my lips, just seconds after marring his beautiful mouth with my red lipstick. It was a second date that could have only left us one way. We made love in my bed that night, and he didn't leave in the morning. We were married two years later.

But within these two years, we hit some very high and very low points. We bought a small apartment together, off 172nd and Lexington. All it was was two bedrooms, one he'd use as a study, a bathroom, and a living space with a galley kitchen built in. But the wood floors were wonderful, and the day before we were set to move in, John called my office saying he'd bought a record player and a record of our favorite song. He wanted me to stop by my fathers townhouse to pick up my dancing shoes and the red dress I'd worn on our first date, and then we'd go dancing in the living room of our new apartment. It was silly, really, but I could imagine holding myself close to his chest once more, whispering that I loved him, that I was so happy to be marrying him. But the dance never came.

Shortly before I left my office to fly to my childhood home and retrieve my gown, I got a call. My editor's secretary rushed into the main offices, eyes looking panicked as she searched around. I remember thinking 'God, whoever she's looking for is a poor soul.' She was looking for me.

John had been in a car accident. A hit and run just outside a flower shop, I'd visit the place later, I'd see the scattered roses trampled by traffic, the dried pool of blood, the little note saying '_Connie Oswin, I love you_' amidst the crumpled stems of the dozen.

He was in the hospital for nearly two weeks, amnesia, couldn't remember who he was. In fact, he thought he was someone else, thought I was too. Called himself the Doctor, called me Clara, told me they'd prolonged his regeneration and that wasn't right. He'd screamed it until his voice was raw and I was left shiving in the metallic chair in the corner. I'd given up when he finally came back to me. He almost left me for it. But he didn't. Not yet.


	3. Chapter 3

In the Spring of 1954 I'd fallen pregnant with our first child. So far throughout our marriage I'd constatnly heard about his ex-wife River, well Melody, but I wasn't allowed to call her that. We'd go out for dinner every second saturday and he'd always tell some ridiculous story about River, a woman nearly fifteen years older than he, and how she'd run naked across their lawn in the wee hours of the morning, just for fun. How she got arrested for being drunk on the streets of West London when she was only fifteen years old. How they laughed and played together all through his university years, and married the moment he was out. But she had brain cancer, apparently. Her memory would come and go. By the time she'd fallen pregnant with their first child she was on so much blood thinning medicine that she gave birth to a still born, hours before passing away herself.

A few months before I announced my pregnancy, John had come down with a case of baby fever. All of my friends had been having children, except Nina of course (she had never been particularly interested in the opposite sex). I guess he'd felt a little left out - considering I was at the height of my career and didn't think a baby would fit into our schedules. But I said yes to trying, and within just a few weeks of our first go at it, I knew he'd got his wish.

I was terrified, how could I not be? I was still a young woman, making my way as a journalist for the New York Times, the men already saw me as nothing but a piece of meat, having a baby at home and cutting my work hours to take care of it wouldn't help my career none. I couldn't belive I'd considered it in the first place. On top of my job a baby was a big reponsibility, and after my mother died when I was in my teens, and my brother in World War II, and my father being an absent goverment conspiracy advocat, who could I turn to for advice? I had nobody, John's family was all dead, and my parent friends wouldn't be of much help either. But I decided to go through with it. How could I not? John had been so happy about starting a family when he'd first pitched the idea to me. I couldn't deny him this, not after fate had already dealt it to us in our hand.

For the first time in months, I'd called in sick at work. But I chickened out of telling him in the morning and instead waited until John had left to get to class, because I didn't want to worry him. For the past few weeks, I'd been ill, and that morning my sinking suspicion had finally been confirmed. I wasn't sick, as I'd wished. I knew that in light of recent events, I just wouldn't be able to sit through a day of work, at a desk, typing. Besides, I figured I could work from home, considering I'd have to for the next year, anyways.

After confirming everything for myself, I'd sat perched on the couch by the door, twisting my wedding ring around my finger. It wasn't bad timing per-say, but nonetheless, nerves had set in about telling John. At noon, I heard his keys in the lock. He had said he'd be returning home for lunch as his afternoon classes were delayed, and there wasn't a better time to tell him.

"Hello!" I had exclaimed, pushing the nerves from my mind, which was one of the most corageous things I've ever had to do. "How was your morning?"

John walked through the door, the surprise and worry at seeing me home incredibly visible on his face. He dropped his bag and jacket, eyes wide and staring at me.

"Connie… Connie why are you home, I mean I'm glad you are, but isn't your column is due soon..?"

He drifted off, gently walking over to take my hands into his. River had the same look on her face, he'd said, and then a few months later… She had been gone.

In all my worry and excitement I'd forgotten about that. "I'll do it later, it's due at the end of the week anyways." Then I lift onto my toes and pecks him on the lips. "I've got another due date that I think takes precedence anyways, and I called in sick so I could tell you." The rush of nerves in my stomach was incredible as I waited to see if he noticed my choice of words. "Oh, I forgot. Remind me later to call my Doctor, okay?"

He gave me an odd look, unsure of what I meant as I spoke about doctors and what not. He ran a hand through his hair, now a bit more anxious than he had been.

"Darling… Please can you, can you spare me any heart failure?"

"I can't believe I was worried about telling you." I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck. I could feel his single pulse against the crook of my elbow, it calmed me, soothing my worries. He wanted it, I reassured myself, because if he didn't than my sacrifice would mean nothing. "I'm pregnant!"

He said nothing.

I tensed, and then suddenly I was afraid to lean back and see his expression. He wasn't happy. I'd known, oh I'd known there was a reason to be nervous." He doesn't want this, he isn't happy, he doesn't want this." It echoed in my mind. I can still remember that fear as clear as day.

Slowly, I unwrapped my arms from around his neck, and pressed my hands against his chest. "You're not- Oh, John just say something."

He gently tucked my hands away from his body, his own hand going up to run the back of his neck. John stepped away, before turning and grabbing his jacket.

"I-I need to take a walk I… I'm sorry."

And then he walked out on me for the first time in our married life. Our perfect little world had started to come tumbling down.


	4. Chapter 4

In the spring of 1947, years before I met John Smith, I had just been hired by the New York Times. Originally I'd only been hired as a secretary, but when it was found out that I had been the one doing the writing for the man I was appointed to wait on, I got promoted. It was a small job, far worse than the job I'd been writing for. I got one sixth of a column, every wednesday and saturday, in which to write about 'Women's Events'. Now being the feminist I am, I discarded the word 'Women' from that title and instead changed it to 'Current'. So what if there was already a current events writer? My piece was short enough nobody would even notice, and my boss thought that anything written by a hired woman was quite phenomenal, even if it wasn't good by any standards. So I wrote about what interested me, rather than what was supposed to interest the 'typical' woman.  
Around this time, there'd been a little mishap with televisions. During commercials or nightly news programs an image would pop up. A wispy image with a static background, sometimes one might even hear the same noise in the background of a radio station, but it wasn't just static noise. I went investigating. The television stations I'd seen it on hadn't scheduled it, and the radio stations hadn't had any faults in broadcasting. I'd gone to ask my neighbors a few questions about it, and if they'd noticed it, when I bumped into a man on the street. Quite literally.  
Over the course of a few months after that, I'd write about him. Not frequently, just enough to give my readers - if I had any - some gossip.  
_At first we didn't get along,_ I'd written, _he was a real short tempered guy. Handsome as anything, but short tempered and stubborn. He had a sort of scottish accent I suppose. Probably one of those British Division Vets. of WWII. After the fact we didn't get along, was the fact he seemed like a journalist to me. Like what I happen to hope to be one day._ (That little quip had gotten me in trouble with my boss) _He was inquisitive, very clever, and could charm anybody's socks off if he could set aside his passion for putting others down. He called himself Psi. Said he had a doctorate once or something - maybe it was that people used to call him 'the Doctor'. But that seemed pretentious so I'm glad he dropped it._  
That was it. My first article about something even remotely womanly. My editor loved it, minus that little quip, but none the less. Whenever my bosses would get rather annoyed with my journalistic pieces, I'd write about Psi, because I saw him around a few times after that and we'd often go investigating together. In 1949 he was the reason I got the promotion to actually write a column. He was the reason I met my husband.  
Of course before I met John, Psi and I became marvelous friends. He'd take me to dinner sometimes, saying odd little things like "I'm tolerating this place for you, Connie. I'd never be around such common folk." But that seemed silly to me. The restaurants he'd take me to were always upscale, for far richer audiences than myself, so I never quite understood what he was going on about.  
He took me to Atlantic City once, and we'd gamble and drink. All of my friends, both my age and older, assumed he was my boyfriend or maybe betrothed. I'd keep saying no, but when they'd gotten wind he was taking me to a city that was worse that NYC at sleeping I could only give into them and tell them 'sure, he is, what's'it too ya?' I couldn't get my blossoming reputation as a writer tarnished by a man I loved as a friend who would likely never admit that I did so.  
Our trip to Atlantic City was simply wonderful. It was like seeing the entire universe in the palm of my hand. We stayed at the Claridge Hotel and Casino, a rather expensive place for my taste but when I voiced that concern he'd waved me off saying 'Only the best for you, Connie.'  
As I've said, a few nights after we arrived I guess we'd both had a little too much to drink, and after winning a Jackpot at the Casino we'd stumbled over to the Claridge's small wedding chapel. I can remember it very hazily, no more than I could remember the morning after. I'd already been wearing a shiny sky blue dress at the time, something Psi had bought me as a surprise the night before, so no change was needed (not that I would have cared to). And his proposal was lackluster, a true sur of the moment thing. He'd tapped me on the shoulder and started yelling about how much I pissed him off sometimes. But the angry statements about headstrong women and control freaks had turned into 'marry me, Cons' and confused the hell out of my drunk brain. But I said yes, for some ungodly reason, and although I didn't know I loved him until later, my first marriage was what made me fall in love for the second time. Way out of order, yes, I know.  
**_**  
**Authors Note:**  
**I'd just like to thank everyone reading and following for your support. I know this seems a little confusing but hopefully this will clear it up: Connie Oswin is an American echo of Clara Oswald (Connie is actually a small character from Captain America played by Jenna Louise Coleman, so that's where I got her inspiration). John Smith is a human!11th Doctor, and Psi is the 10th Doctor (if he went a little batty after the Master). **  
**The Timeline: Connie starts working at the NYT in 1946, meets Psi after her promotion in 1947. Goes to Atlantic City (east coast Vegas) with Psi and marries him in January 1949. Meets John Smith in August 1949, marries him 1951. Falls pregnant with their child December of 1954.**


	5. Chapter 5

For months after I announced my pregnancy, my husband John ignored me. He was rarely home, finding increasingly more reasons to stay at the University and work as the months went on. Whenever he did come home, instead of imposing on the flat he used to rent above the Blue Door Café, he'd come home hours after dinner. His plate would still be lying cold on the table when he returned. I always left it out on the off chance he was hungry, but I always found it sitting there in the mornings. He'd come home, ignore the food, and climb into bed and lie as far as possible away from me. Sometime's he'd mutter a gruff '_Go to sleep, Connie'_ if he noticed I was awake, but he usually said nothing before lulling into the bliss I had a hard time achieving.

One night, when I was only about seventeen weeks pregnant, he walked out on me without a single word. He'd just stood up during dinner - one of the few occasions he'd actually been home early - and left. I called all of his friends, all of my friends, left messages at the Universtiy for his colleagues. I just needed to make sure he was okay, even if he didn't come back home. Eventually it got to the point where he hadn't even been home in three days and I was worried sick, but the end of my short vacation from work had come, and the work week began anew.

I woke up earlier than usual, expecting to see the heel of John's shoes escaping out our bedroom door, but to no avail. I hadn't even had so much as a glimpse of him recently and that made me angry. It made me angry that he could just leave his pregnant wife alone, to fend for herself while he went out and moped about a wife long dead. I sure sound bitter with words like that, but I was his wife, I was the one who lived and the one who was carrying his child, and neither of us had any life threatening complications. Wouldn't you think he would be so caught up protecting us from any harm? Apparently not. But despite my internal protests to his chivalry, I got up and got dressed.

My clothes were a little too tight around the middle, seams threatening to split at my sides all because I couldn't afford any new clothes for myself. I had to care for the baby, and without John, my savings were cut in more than half. But I couldn't help any of it, not as I rushed out the door. I wasn't rushing because I was late, oh no, I am never late. I was rushing because I hadn't been out of the house, I hadn't seen my friends or the light of day since he'd left another time. I'd be damned if I wasn't able to have some fun before he left me and the baby for good.

I trotted down, well I say trotted but it's hard when you're ten pounds heavier and in heels, the streets of my little neighborhood. I was heading away from my work and closer to the University, but seeing John was the least of my expectations as I knew he'd turn and run if we saw eachother on the street. The Blue Door was coming up, and I could see Wilf turning the 'Closed/Open' sign from a distance. I crossed, there was barely any traffic in the morning, and hugged Wilf happily, glad for human contact.

The old man nodded but gave me an awkward look as he stepped aside, in front of the door, as if blocking it…As if protecting me.

"He spent tha' night an' I just couldn't throw him out, he's like a son to me ya know? I talked to him and I decided to let him feel a bit ashamed o' himself. If you like you can go in and order, I'm all for it but… Please understand Connie. River was his first everything, and that boy has so much tragedy 'round him…. He doesn't know how to be happy, but you, your his impossible girl. I'm sure if you can't do it then he'll be miserable for tha' rest if his bloody life." Wilf stood to the side, holding the door open, smile in place. He'd always rooted for me, ever since that first date of John and I's. River had started with only a semi broken man, but Me? I had only gotten the pieces.

"He's here?" I'd stopped short of the door after hugging him, my smile falling off her face. Of _course_ he was there, he had nowhere else to go. I don't know why I hadn't thought of that sooner.

"Well, I'm not going to bypass your cafe just because my no-good husband is in there." I immediately raised my walls, and put on a smile. "You're right, he doesn't know how to be happy but I do. He just needs to accept that yes, what happened was horrible and heartwrenching, but this is his second chance." Nodding to Wilf, I headed into the shop. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted John, and I knew in a moment his eyes would be on the back of her head. I turned back to Wilf. "Thank you so much for taking care of him last night, it means the world to him and me that you're always there for us." It was said softly before looking over my shoulder at John. "You're like a father to him."

John was in the corner, at our usual table. He was sipping his long gone cold coffee as if his sane life depended on that, and I felt sorry for him. I bit my lip, going to sit in my spot across from him.

"Hey, you." I'd lost all my animosity, if ever I had it. We were both hurting, but that didn't mean we needed to be fighting. "How ya feelin'?"

He turned away from the window, looking at me with eyes wide. "I've been mulling this over and over in my head, thinking about all of the outcomes, and I'm sorry." It was a shuddering apology, his voice cracking against his will while he moved to stare down at his hands.

"I'm sorry too," I murmured before clearing my throat, "I- I didn't think about River, I was just so happy, John. I'm so sorry I didn't think."

"You're right, and I overreacted. I just can't seem to let things go like I thought I could. I thought I'd let her go."

"It's okay." I gingerly put a hand over his. "John, I need to know what to do. I just want you to be happy."

He places his free hand over mine and looks at me. "Nothing would make me happier than to have a family again. To have laughter and share everything with people I hold dear, beings I've created with the woman I love." He smiles gently, voice careful. "I want to have a family, to spend the rest of my life with you."

_Lies_

"So you're okay with this? You want this baby?" My free hand goes to my stomach, and I played with the tight fabric of my dress. "Because if you're not ready yet, we can.. I don't want to have to do this, but we don't have to have a family right now, John." I dropped my voice to a low whisper, just incase there were any officers in the café. "We have options."

He looked at me, hiding his astonishment well. _You would do that for me?_ Clearly playing through his head. I don't know if I truly would have, to be honest, over the months before our interaction the baby had became my only peace, my only hope to get through my lonely living.

"The only option we have is me dealing with my paranoia." He spoke. "Of course I want this baby… I want every child you'll ever give me. I just… we just need to go get you checked over is all, just to confirm."

We both knew it was to quell his doubt in the horrible luck surrounding him, but of course neither of us said it.

"I'm fine, John. I swear. I've got an appointment tonight anyways, you can come if you want. Make sure I am okay." I smiled sweetly, rubbing my thumb against his. "I love you." She sniffled, looking at their hands.

He stood, tugging me to my feet as he does so and taking me into his arms tightly. By now the cafe had filled out, the patrons staring. "I love you. Don't you ever doubt that no matter how ridiculous I'm being or how put out I'll always love you." John held me close, speaking gently and with so much passion in his voice that he could feel his own tears well.

I let loose, crying into his chest, savoring the feeling of his arms around me for the first time in months. "I thought you were going to leave me. I didn't know what to do. Don't you dare scare me so bad again, John." I looked up at him, wiping a tear before peering around. "People are staring," I whispered.

When he looks up, he realizes they were staring. With that, he turned a wet-cheeked, vunerable version of myself out towards them, his own tear stained grin wide. "We're pregnant!" The crowd is quiet before they clap, some cooing at how cute they are and others confused. He tugged me into his arms once more, this time pressing our lips together tightly, I began to relish in the thought of having a real family. But again, it wouldn't last.


	6. Chapter 6

Being nearly five months pregnant was hard, especially when he'd started to ignore me again. I went to my doctors appointments alone, I shopped for baby clothes, furniture, and other necessities alone, I may as well have been a single mother, and it was all because of his fear. He was still terrified that what happened to his Melody would happen to me, but being on the brunt side of that hurt like hell and I wasn't sure I wanted to stick around to see the ending of it all anymore.

Around this time, Psi had come to see me once more, and I'd given in to him again. By 1954 we'd started our affair. I'd fallen into his arms more times than I could remember, confessed that I loved him nearly as much as I loved John, but he'd never once said it back.

Psi rented a tiny apartment a short ways from John and I's home. It was small, just two rooms. A kitchen and living room with his bed in it, and the other housing something I was never allowed to see, and I never asked. I went over frequently, and despite my pregnancy we'd make love in his bed, when John had ignored me the first time, and started to ignore me once more, I'd stay the night. I wasn't afraid of getting caught anymore. Not until my third incident with John, anyways.

I don't think he'd meant to call me useless. I think it had just come out wrong, and as I'd slammed the door in his face he'd realized why he'd reached the breaking point when he had. It probably wasn't the baby on the way, his job, or even the fact that we had recently moved and our house was in disarray…He just was always frightened, always fearing the worst. I know he was scared that one day my patience with him would run out, and with it his family would dismantle into pieces he'd hopelessly try and shove back together. That wasn't anyone's fault but his own.

But I'd screamed at the top of my lungs, swearing ruthlessly and crying as slammed the door on his way out. The baby kicked incessantly, like she knew of the turmoil going on outside the womb.

_Useless._ That god damn word was quite possible the worst I'd ever heard leave his mouth. He'd spat it at me when things weren't going his way, and it pierced my emotion addled brain in a way it usually wouldn't have.

He was always so pessimistic and judgemental. Ever since I'd told him about the pregnancy. He'd been quietly comparing me to River for weeks since we'd "made up", and with the word useless, my strength came tumbling down. I felt lost and alone, like I had nobody in the world to confide in, it was all just as useless as I apparently was.

It was hours later, after a storm that had rocked the creaking eaves of our old townhouse and caused several leaks on the third floor that I finally heard him come home. He shut the front door quietly, kicking off his leather shoes and hanging his sopping tweed jacket on the hooks by the door. I heard him pad his way into the kitchen, no doubt leaving damp footprints across the floor. The first thing we'd unpacked had been the tea set. John put our kettle on the stove as he began to get his tea things together, deciding to make things as comfortable as possible. After three years of marriage, we hadn't yet had a fight like that and now I wasn't so sure we could surpass it, hell, he probably was just as unsure too. It all felt doomed for failure.

I shuffled out of our bedroom, standing stoic at the top of the stairs and straining to listen to his muffled movements. I heard cabinets opening and closing, a cup being set on the counter, the dull rush of boiling water as he poured. It made me wonder if we could really slip back into that routine. That numb way of life we'd been living, where we simply ignored and nothing else. I jogged down the stairs, stopping with a hitched breath in the door of the kitchen. I was staring at his back, the top of his collared shirt and vest stained with drying water, he was hunched over that mug of tea, holding onto it for his life.

I was really hoping what was coming next wouldn't end everything we'd only just started.

"You're home." I tried to control my voice, make myself sound indifferent, but it cracked and he saw through it. John went rigid. He wasn't proud of his behavior and he wouldn't pretend to be but I could see it in his posture that he couln't help but feel defeated when I spoke as softly and carefully as I did. I was guarding myself and he hated it.

"It was raining… and I didn't want to stay outside longer than I had to."

It was said quietly, his long fingers trailing the rim and the steam curling and hitting the air. He didn't say much else, probably didn't want me to have reason to throw him out again, so he settled for silence. Silence was something he'd perfected after River's death. Too bad that skill couldn't have saved our relationship.

I sighed, going to fix my own cup before sitting down in front of him. I remember looking up at the ceiling, trying to blink away the tears that were threatening to fall. "Why did you say it John. Why am I useless to you?" His hands shook. Instead of being brave and answering the simple question, he brought the cup to his lips, fringe in his eyes as he tried to gather his thoughts. John stayed quiet, to let me get out what I needed to get out before he groveled for forgiveness.

But I just looked at him in disbelief. "The woman who loves you, who married you - I'm the woman who's pregnant with your bloody child and I'm _useless_! That's all I am, right? So _useless_ you won't even answer me." I got up and set my half full cup in the sink. I had no thirst for anything anymore. "Is it because of her?"

"No, it's not River. Not this time. It's the fact that I'm scared of responsibility I thought I was ready for, it's the fact that you can take things so in stride and with a smile while I have to lie through my teeth and then lay awake at night wondering if I'll even be a good father. We both know I was never a good husband."That was when I lost my patience with him.

"Oh so you think I have it_ perfect_ then? You think I'm always just some _perpetually happy, perfect wife_?" I whipped around, facing the sorry bastard. "You think my smile's always genuine? Try living with a man who's been drifting away from you, try living with that man, sleeping in the same bed as him for months, watching him try to fake excitement when there's news about the baby, and_ then_ tell me that I can always smile. I lie through my teeth too, I fake everything recently. I'm _not_ happy! I haven't been happy in a while! And just when I think you're coming around, that you're _finally_ going to be there for me, you're not! You're _not_! I need you right now and you're distant! You get home as late as you can, you get up as early as your body will let you!" The tears flowed freely, my breaths ragged and shallow. "I've seen you with Beth's kids. You're a natural with children. Youwere going to be an amazing dad, and you were an amazing husband, but right now you're really doing a shit job. But I guess that's just the _useless bitch_ in me talking." I gasped, struggling for breath through the word vomit that I couldn't seem to stop. "So _get out_ or _fix yourself_ because I'm not waiting around for you anymore. I'll go live with Nina, or bloody hell, even my father to get away from you at this point."

He stood abruptly, a surge of anger pushing him up. John looked at me, brows knitted, obviously wanting to speak, to yell and tear me down once more with cruel words. His head bowed instead and he spoke words that were long over due.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry for bringing you into this blind, for misleading you and tearing you down. I know I've been horrid and I know that isn't an excuse, because all I do is make excuses and all you've done is try to mend me… But there's one thing you need to understand, one thing you need to know and if you want I'll walk out that door today and I'll leave you be…."

He took a deep pull of air, trying to word himself carefully.

"I was a father once, and all the times you thought I was angry or distant… It's when your body started changing. I remember seeing it happen, remember being happy and I know it isn't likely but I can't lose you. I've been keeping away and holding all of this in because I just can't fathom being without you. Today I went to far, today I hurt you and my plan was working…."

He looked up then, his tears flowing, the ones he held in when I'd leave the room or he'd be on the couch for the night.

"If I pushed you away then it wouldn't hurt when I lost you. Of course I was wrong, because seeing you like this hurts more than I could have ever comprehended."

"I'm six months pregnant, John." My small voice sounded rather pathetic after the screaming I had just done. My shoulders shrugged, as if the passed time was just a meaningless trivial fact.

A tear slipped from the corner of my eye and I wiped it away with the back of my sleeve. "I know how much she - _River_, I know how much she -meant to you. I know it must have been terrible to see her go, but you've missed six months of this new baby's existence. You say you don't want to lose me, but I bet you don't remember a thing of what I've said recently. What I've really said when I'm not yelling."

I moved to sit down again. "Were you too busy thinking about how much it would hurt you if you didn't distance yourself from me, to even _think_ about how I would have felt?"

He went silent. I was right, and he knew it. He had been busy ignoring me so he moved away from the table, coming to my side and getting on his knees to look up into her eyes. It was a ridiculous cheesy move, one that he loved to pull when we'd had fights before our engagement, before we married. I'd be lying if I said I hated it, but I couldn't bear seeing him like that in front of me, not after the past months.

"You're right, you are." He murmured. "I'll get help, I'll better. I always want to know what your feeling, so please just tell me. I'm daft and old but I'll listen this time, this time I'm all yours."

Again, _lies_.

"I feel useless" I whispered simply. It wasn't my way of accusing him or trying to tear him down more, but I'd come to realize that's exactly how I felt. Useless. Somehow I'd made it past the point of sorrow, anger, regret, and instead it was all rolled into one. It's all so jumbled up inside that I didn't know what to do with myself besides love him and… how could I? Because he hadn't seemed to love me at all.

"No. Don't you dare."

He took my hands into his, eyes shining as he pressed kisses to the olive skin, caressing me, loving me properly for the first time in what seems like years.

"I've said things, awful, cynical, horrible things but I can assure you I've never meant them. I've never met someone so alive and willing, so effortless in their beauty and intelligence before and I mean that. Connie, there's a reason we took vows, there's a reason we… we made a baby."

He flushed pink but continued speaking, ignoring the embarrassment, he always was so innocent.

"We love each other, I might not have shown it, and in return you did the same but that doesn't matter. What matters is that we can work through this, and at the same time I'll build you back up so high that if I even think about pulling another stunt like this again you'll be un breakable…. But please don't sit here and think the lies I told you, the ones I force fed you with anger are true."

I broke his gaze to look down at our hands. I hadn't held his hand in what was indeed months, it felt so foreign but so familiar. I knew what John was saying was true. I could see it in those big green eyes of his. But he wasn't going to mend everything with a simple kiss on the hand and a pat on the head and a 'cheer up, kid'.

"I'm just… John I don't know what to say right now. You hurt me, and I believed you. You've been hurting me for months now and that can't just magically disappear in a single night, no matter how much I want to drag you to bed right now."

He nodded, getting to his feet and stepping away from me. My world was distant again. His words are careful as he took short strides to walk and stand behind his then empty chair.

"Your right. You need space more than ever and I'm willing to give it to you. I have a place to go for a few days, and while I'm gone I want you to think. I'll be doing the same, and if we meet once more and that spark we had has been squandered by all the negativity I've generated between us, then please don't open this door. If you open this door Connie, if you even touch that lock I'll kick and shout and claw my way back in, but if you keep it closed, if you draw the curtains and remain absolutely certain, I won't fight it anymore."

He turned to leave, but not before giving me a soft, almost broken smile that nearly cured my betrayed heart.

"My impossible girl, I forgot the reasons I fell in love with you to begin with… but that strength and resolve I see in your eyes, that's what this daft old man needed."

But I was hesitant to trust him, and hesitant to speak. However when I did finally speak after a long silence, I meant it. "I don't want you to go. If you go now, even just for a few days, I might.. I might change my mind, not let you back and-" I stopped abruptly, running a hand over my stomach. "I don't want to lose you."

"If you let me stay I'll never leave. Never again, so think this through Connie Oswin. Do you want this daft old thing to stay by your side?"

He faced me, but didn't step closer, wringing his hands on hem of his jacket as he awaited my answer. He didn't want to stay out of obligation or insecurities. He wanted me to look past that to the days after we'd first met and let me examine whether our shelf life was much more extensive than it seemed now.

We were both silent, just looking at each other and I made the decision I've always made since the day I met him.

"Smith. Connie Smith." I got up, tiptoeing across the space between John and myself. "I'm Connie Smith now, don't you ever forget that." My delicate hands shake as I reached for his large ones. "I love you, and I want you to stay."

Then he took my quivering hands in his own, but refrained from delving much further to be intimate, not wanting to break the small shard of kindness we were showing one another after all this time.

"I'll get help, I'll change, but please have a bit more patience. I know I'm asking a lot from you right now but I want you to ask things of me too…"

How could I have smiled at his response. I instead looked away, staring blankly at our toaster out of sheer coincidence. "Right now, all I want is-" Then, I stopped myself. What exactly was it that I wanted? Love, compassion, a hug all came to mind. The child gently prodding me with tiny toes came to mind. His hopeful eyes and raised eyebrows came to mind.

"I just want you to love me again."

It must have been a huge blow to the chest, I get that now. Neither John nor I could believe we ever let it get that bad. I thought he'd stopped caring about me, about everything and all because he had been selfish. He pulled me into his arms, shuddering as he gave a weak sob. What a fool he'd been. He pressed a kiss to my hair, and whispered gently, as if he only wanted me to hear the soft words that left his lips.

"I will never stop loving you. I will never stop caring and walking by your side no matter what you think I feel because I have given you my heart and if I had another I'd gladly hand it over. I'm a selfish and awful man but I know when to grovel and right now I'm begging you Connie Smith, trust me when I say that you are loved, and by no one more than me."


	7. Chapter 7

We were happy after that. We were deliriously happy, locked in some sort of trance together. Everything was pleasurable, cooking, cleaning, the little spats we'd have over whether or not simply had to visit my father for dinner or not. It was a stupid kind of perfect, the kind of stupid you find in every romance novel of the time, fluffy and idealistic, we hadn't a care in the world.

It was fall of 1954 when Psi returned once more to our happy little abode. He hadn't known that I was pregnant, or that there had been such trouble between John and I. Psi was distant though, returning from a trip to a far away place from which he refused to send me letters. He was so different from what he'd once been. We'd never been as close as John and I had at the start of our whirlwind romance, but once upon a time Psi and I had at least been on that track.

But now he'd come back, and he was only there just so I could make sure he was actually alive. I'd missed him, that was no secret. Whenever I knew where he was on his travels, I'd send a letter to the hotel he would stay at. I'd never get one in return, and sometimes when I'd think I had, it was only the hotel sending my letter back with the simple message '_This patron is no longer staying with us here at the hotel.' _

It all seemed like such a simple notion but he kept breaking my heart with it, and I never once let John see the pain, until finally he came back. I had tried to forget. I tried to forget him with every passing day, but had only managed to push his memory further into my stream of consciousness. Nothing had gone quite right since he'd left. I thought that maybe with the baby i'd be so busy that I'd forget about him, that myself and John would have the perfect life in our picket-fenced home. How wrong I was.

John was becoming increasingly more distant, every time I confronted him he spewed some crap about River. I understood, I did, but when he had been the one to suggest starting a family? I had started to wonder why we'd ever thought about it in the first place. He obviously couldn't handle it.

So I started going for walks, when I felt up to it i'd go across town, maybe visit my father or Nina. I would d get away from the house. John wasn't home a lot, he would always find a new student to tutor or make plans to have dinner with Wilf. Thus I found myself alone most days and it took all I could to face him on those nights. So I walked.

But there was a rather peculiar day. John had kissed me on the cheek that morning, something he hadn't done in a while (I was bound to find it odd). It puzzled me, and I got lost on my way to a book store. I'd wandered into the more populated area, townhouses lining most of the streets, alleys parting clusters of them. Then, just up ahead of me I saw a familiar face ducking out of a townhouse.

Psi.

I strode fairly confidently up to him. He stood emotionless when I came to a stop, staring up at him with a hesitation to speak. My eyes widened at the close-up sight of him. His hair had been unusually disheveled, suit a bit wrinkled, and he looked like he'd been up for hours on end. Yet he had that unlimited boundless energy that I could barely register was even there for once. He was that still, that different.

Then he bounced into his normal prattling on self and began discussing the power of fours. I nearly lost it. I felt dizzy. He looked at me, but saw straight through. '_He doesn't love you'_ suddenly sprang back to my mind, accompanied with a sense of loss. Flinching back at the disembodied though, I tucked my arms around my stomach as if he might have gone off at me any second. Like I needed to protect. He was different, mentally different, more unhinged. Every shred of normality I'd seen him achieve before had vanished, and he'd almost seemed worse. Sure he was more polite, but the anger and the voice were just under the surface, peeking out with every wrong action.

His rambling shocked me. Psi of course did this a lot when we gallivanted around together, 'investigating' in the early days, but it was never.. it hadn't on this new sort of scale. It hadn't gotten to the point where it looked like he was saying anything he could just to avoid saying something else. My wide eyes filled with tears. He didn't care that I once meant something to him, or vice versa. I shook my head, trying to force those terrifyingly realistic thoughts away.

His constant pacing stressed me, my temples pounded with a headache and my cheeks were wet with tears. The babbling was worse than silence. It was worse than arguments.

"No." I managed to croak. "I should be getting home. Dinner to make, hopefully for two, practice for three." I didn't care if I made much sense at the time. Now I wanted out. My dreams of him reappearing had crashed down, expectations of a warm and apologetic welcome smashed to pieces. "You're busy. I shouldn't…"

Psi had managed to shut his mouth long enough to listen to me. I supposed sounded not so good and when he decided to finally look at me.. well, I appeared that way too so it mustn't have been that far of a jump. He hesitantly walked closer to me, for I was still standing a good five feet away. Honestly, he looked and moved like he was trying to prevent a stray animal from scurrying away from him and into the shadows. Maybe he was. Maybe I was afraid. Maybe I should have been.

"Why're you crying?"

He reached out slowly, trailing the back of it down my cheek and wiping away the tears I hadn't known were there. Psi was prepared to focus on anything it seemed, everything, as long as there was always something in his mind to evade what he wanted to avoid. Or maybe he wanted to address it? No, no. That's what he was trying to prevent then.

"Because I don't like making you cry. I do it a lot though, don't I? I'm good at that, I'm good at hurting things, Connie. Why haven't you forgotten me by now? Why'd you come here? How'd you find me? Where's John? What is that? You don't seem..."

Trailing off, he leaned in my direction, eyes narrowed. I shut my eyes then, trying as hard as I could to will the situation into a dream. I didn't want this anymore. I didn't want to see him anymore. My breath hitched at his touch, and I didn't dare open my eyes to his. I couldn't have been that close to him and kept my cool. Psi's actions puzzled me. So cruel and ignorant one minute, so confusing and caring the next.

"I'm pregnant." I said slowly, then hesitating before unwrapping my arms from around the tiny bump I'd had at the time. I remember suddenly feeling vulnerable. With my only happiness revealed to him I was petrified that he'd have tried to take it away. Hurt me, scare me, somehow make me lose the child no matter the outcome of its life. It was cruel these imaginary acts I was accusing him of possibly being capable. But I was terrified, having only recently began to come into my impending motherhood. It wasn't necessarily just me to be worried about anymore. I opened my eyes at long last, and was shocked to see the look in his own.

Worried. I'd never have expected that in a hundred years, not back then. He hadn't been angry.

"I'm pregnant." I said again, voice a little stronger, confidence returning with a slow ambition to.


	8. Chapter 8

Psi gave my shoulders a little pat before straightening again, he had seemingly been checking me over. Like we were old pals again, except with that sort of tension that comes from being with somebody else's baby.

"Why don't you look happy? Oh, shit, you weren't lookin' for…?" He mumbled through possible reasons, hands fidgeting, reaching up and dropping back down again. Looking for a reason to have physical contact but always deciding against it.

"Well, do you do check ups? You'll want to avoid complications though I assure you there won't be many. Well, not with the kid anyhow. You're stronger than that."

"Im fine." I snapped. "I'm.. I'm just fine. Of course I go to appointments, I just-" the tears were welling up again. The normalcy of the situation was too much. Nobody could have gone from the screaming match we'd had before he left, to abandonment to whatever the hell this had been, not overnight! Not even myslef, who had ruefully had more experience in it than I thought I ever would, could. Then I found an interest in the floor, staring down and avoiding his gaze.

"I'm sorry," I sniffed, "I just expected a different side of you and this is hard for me. I- it really shouldn't be hard for me but it is." Mentally slapping myself, I paused. I knew what I'd said would warrant an explanation, but how was I supposed to say it looked like my husband might leave me? How was I supposed to have said that I still loved him? How was I even supposed to have said anything at all?

Psi couldn't hide the grim look that possessed his face while he watched me and listened as a hawk might. (What you think it's odd I noticed that in such an emotional time? I'm a reporter. I notice things for a living. Keep up.) It should have be unnerving, and in all reality it was when I lived it.

"What were you expecting?" He wanted me to talk, he really did, and I could tell. It was weird. Nonetheless he grabbed hold of me and dragged me into the town house he'd previously vacated. Once inside what I still assume was his rented apartment, he sat me down.

"What's happened, hm? What are you hiding from me?"

"I was expecting you to still be angry with me, to throw me out or not even answer the door. I-I mean I told you I-" I stopped, staring up at him from my seat, wide eyed. I gauged his reaction, trying to determine whether or not he'd fly off the handle again (Spoiler: he does, just a little bit.).

"Nothing's happening, I'm fine. It's fine. Don't worry about me. Or.. John." I hesitated, I just knew I'd hesitated but I couldn't correct it. I'd lost that time realizing my mistake. Damn, could I do anything right all those years ago? "I just don't get how you're not still mad at me."

"You're lying to me, Connie. Don't you dare think I'd never know when you do that. Tell me what's happened. This works much better if you cooperate, hm?" With a long sigh he moved closer to me, taking my head in his hands and resting his forehead against mine. His eyes were closed and he seemed tempted, oh so tempted to do what I was oh so tempted to do. Well, that course of action would more than likely have been frowned upon and, according to my state, would probably have sent me into a greater level of despair if he'd have refused. So, with uncharacteristic restraint, we both just held our positions.

"'M not mad, I'm- uh-" He seemed scared. "I'm just not mad."This was followed by a long pause in which I leant into his arms and he held me softly, sweetly. Uncharicteristically.

"John and I," I eventually said, "He was the one who wanted a baby, and I wasn't so sure at first, with my career and you. But then I told him I was pregnant, I was so nervous to tell him but I was happy and he.. He ran. Twice. 'Cause of what happened to his first wife. He hasn't been home lately, keeps overworking himself to avoid me. Hasn't been to a single doctors appointment." my voice stayed low, the fear of showing emotion had slowly begun creeping into my mind. "I mean, it's been two months since I found out we're having a baby girl and he hasn't once asked me about her? Refuses to look at me propr'ly when we're in the same room." Then I bit my lip, going a bit cross-eyed to look at him right.

"Now whats bothering you? You can't lie to me either."

"He what?" The rage he felt went unmasked. I'd now been abandoned twice by two men I loved and who loved me once - or as Psi would profess: cared about (because he had yet to even break the feeling of love). "I had no idea he could ever… Whatever happened between now and the future, just know it probably works out? I 'Should teach him a lesson.. a valuable one at that." He shook his head before he had time to go off into detail just how exactly he would handle the situation. It's a gift that he stopped himself because he could have blabbered on all day.

I tucked my hands over my stomach again, Psi's unmasked anger bringing out my maternal instincts to protect. I blinked rapidly, using my now long-developed technique for hiding the pain, and the tears. "I don't know, Psi. I don't think he'll ever be ready to let himself be involved again. He's a stubborn man,something I wish I'd seen earlier. Recently, he's reminded me of you before you left about five months ago. Unwilling to show sensitive emotion, and when he does it blows up in my face. Abandonment isn't something I want to go through a fifth time. Not after my mother, brother, John and your first time. Please don't leave and make it happen again."

Psi leaned back, having sat beside me earlier to hold me close, still sandwiching my face in his hands, "What? Nothing's bothering me but this. Why would I be bothered by anything else? I wouldn't be, that's the answer."

"You're lying." I then continued simply after hearing him speak, but however fully expecting him to not tell me the truth within the century.

"Fuck, look.. I didn't mean to leave, not really. I just- you wouldn't understand, alright? I didn't abandon you, just think of it as saving. And I don't have to explain anything to you." Psi crossed his arms and looked at me, an expression that I've never once been able to understand crossing his face. "John wouldn't just give you up like that anyways, I should know. It's hard."

"Perseverance is our thing I guess. We'll always be okay to some extent but when we're broken? When John and I are broken we're on the verge of quitting and it's.. I hate it." I set a hand on my stomach, rubbing the spot where my child had just dealt a painfully swift kick (despite having only started the kicking a few weeks prior). "I thought you'd never come back, Psi. Saving me would have been coming back and punching John in the face when he tries to leave, saving me would have been being there for me even though you can't handle the fact that I'm so desperately in love with you! You didn't save me by leaving, you tore me down even more. So yes, you do owe me an explanation of why you weren't there when I really needed you. A-and I know you're not one for comfort, but you always used to show up when I wasn't my best, and you'd make me happy again. Why couldn't you do that? Are you really too cold to feel any emotion like love or do you just refuse to let yourself care?"

"I'm not a fucking knight in shining armour, Connie, and I don't owe you shit. What, did you really expect anything different? Can you not see when you've been had?" The harshness in his tone, stance, and overall demeanour evaporated as soon as the words were out. His eyes then went wide, belaying a look that reflected just how unsure he had been replacing it all as he grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a shake, his voice wavered dangerously. "What the hell are you doing here? You can't do that… you can't say it. You just can't because this- this is something I can't do. Please, listen, just listen to me. Don't. I- ah, fuck." He sagged into me until his head was pressed to the right of my buldged torso and his hands rested on my elbows. His body quivered against mine though he didn't cry.. but that didn't stop him from cursing himself to hell under his breath.

"What am I doing here?" I shoved him off of me, the pity I would have normally had then had disappeared completely. "Why the hell do you keep doing this to me? To everybody! I can do what I like and say what I please and you can't stop me! I love you! I'm not afraid to admit that I love you. I'm not the one who is so scared of himself that he wont even admit he has the slightest amount of feelings for somebody, no matter how positive or negative those may be. I'm not the one who runs from his long term problems. I'm not the coward who can fly away and forget!"I stood and made my way to the door, pausing to lean on the kitchen counter for a moment.

"You can't do shit, Psi. You make some big deal out of saving worlds, saving me. But when it comes to what really matters you're useless. You're nothing. I understand why you might be surprised I fell in love with you. You're a horrible man who has no intentions to care for anybody else. And I guess that's just as well because maybe this time.. This time I'm done caring for you. So you can fly off in one of those goddamn planes, fly away from me, John, my child. Maybe I'm done caring for you this time, and I swear to god if you try and fuck with my heart one more time I'll-" I gasped slightly. A swift kick to her ribs was all she needed to realize her predicament.

"Come back tomorrow, the day after, the month after, or maybe for years to come and see if I care. You don't deserve my anger, but I sure as hell don't deserve to live a life where I'm cared for one moment and thrown out on the street to run back to my family the next."


	9. Chapter 9

He'd stumbled back and stared at me in shock; I don't think he expected me to ever act that way in a million years, but what other reaction was there to expect? Forgiveness? He used to profess every day that I was just too unpredictable. He didn't say anything then, though. Not minutes before it had seemed like an abundance of words were ready to fly from his lips, the source infinite; but now they were gone, just like that, lost in an unnamed abyss.

His feet moved irritably whilst he was still in his daze, he looked as if he was about to be sick. Then Psi grabbed at me, holding on tightly to prevent me from getting away. He wasn't about to let me get away it seemed, so he trapped me against the wall of his rented apartment.

"No, you- I- stop talking. Just stop." He paused. "I'm sorry, I need you. You're good for me but I just… I'm no good for you. Why else do you think I do this, huh? Why else would I leave? You're right, I'm a coward, probably the biggest one around, but that's only because if you keep saying that thing… I won't be able to get away. I'd be trapped. And I think we all should be afraid of the day I can't get out of somewhere. If you think all of this is because I don't care-" Psi shook his head and pulled me into a hug, keeping me close to him in a crushing hold.

My anger increased tenfold.

I slammed my fists as best as I could against his chest, trying to get out of his hold because I knew even then that if he'd trapped me there for much longer, I would have never gotten out. Oh I loved him, too much to say, and I could never stay as mad as I had been, but hell I'd needed to - I'd wanted to. I'd felt the need to run away from the man he was, and never return. It would've been better, wouldn't it? Running like he always does. That's the answer, right? I don't know anymore.

"Psi!" I cried out, less vigor in my voice than previously before. "Of course you don't care, you just need me for your own personal fucking gain!" The words wavered then, voice betraying me as it always did when I was so young, giving away the emotions that lurked under my anger. "I don't care if you're the one who is going to be trapped because- because I already am and I can't get out."

Thus I called a cease fire over my own limbs, surrendering to Psi's crushing embrace. It wasn't fair that he could keep running. It was never fair. It still isn't.

Trapped. I felt so trapped with him. Or by him? Does it really matter which one anymore? I was hurt and devastated by the whole situation we had fallen into. Psi couldn't blame me for that, surely, and I don't think he ever did. Though he wasn't pleased with the fact I'd thought he didn't care. But, then again, what had he done to show me that he did? To really prove that he hadn't just been using me? In the beginning, before there was something more between us, before John even was near the picture of a woman I was, of course he had been using me. He had been using me for fun and to get a reaction from me for his own sick amusement but somehow, by whatever force out there, it had then transformed and suddenly he too had been tuck in that strange position with myself, the woman he refused to care for in his arms. He hadn't dared say anything, he just held me and refused to let me go no matter how many times I tried to pull away. His eyes had been closed for a while then and his cheek rested on my head as he swallowed. I could feel his adams apple moving against my collar bone. In the moment it was unnerving how human he seemed after months of correspondance with the non-existant entity that he seemed to have been.

"Goddamn you." I breathed against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his waist and suddenly the hug was nice, no matter how much I'd wanted to run from him mere moments before. I had been so neglected back then. My own feelings had been left for shit in favor of trying to fix my failing marriage, and my failing life. Knowing somebody wanted me around for once had been so unbelievably refreshing.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, Psi. I'm just sick of people pretending to care and choosing to honor the lies they've made to please themselves instead of what really matters… Also the damn baby is making me a blubbering idiot."

Psi nuzzled his nose into the wispy ends of my hair that had been falling out of a messy bun. He let out a heavy sigh when he leant into the hug as best he could without crushing me against the wall.

"Yes, growing babies do that… you know, with the hormones and all. It has been shown mothers have less patience. That's not the point you were making.." He'd sounded distracted. Then Psi cleared his throat and, as fast as the caring moment had happened it had gone. He'd hesitantly unwrapped his arms from me, watching me closely in case I tried to run. I could see his motives in studying my face. It seems funny now, how Psi must have thought I was an almost prisoner, as someone who must have only there because of him. At the time it was the closest connection he'd ever made with me, and I cherished it.

All of a sudden, through the emotional turmoil I had been suffering, came a bubbling of giggles. I hadn't been able to help it, it was just there as he nuzzled my head, as he squeezed me tight, but not too tight. It came from all of it, all of him, even the little remark about my short temper and my motherly lack of patience.

I laughed against his chest, a real smile gracing my face (and that was rare for me then). He'd managed to coax my dimples out of hiding.

"No, it wasn't" I giggled, my cheek pressed against him I nuzzled him the way he'd done to me. "But you're right. I'm not patient at all! And that temper-? Shorter than ever."

I bit her lip, smiling up at him when he pulled away to examine me. My eyes had still been watery from before but had then become filled with mirth. How I'd missed just joking around with Psi. How could I ever have stayed angry with him? That still isn't an answer I'll ever find out, I'm sure.


End file.
